


Gas Station Flowers

by SoftEigentlich



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic Violence, F/M, GenderNeutral!Reader, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, M/M, Murder, My First Fanfic, Other, Revenge, Songfic, abusive boyfriend!Denmark, mentally unstable!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 21:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftEigentlich/pseuds/SoftEigentlich
Summary: The flowers reeking of gasoline that Mathias brings you as an apology after his violent episodes have long stopped to seem sincere.





	Gas Station Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to start this account off with a very old fic, the first fic I ever put on the internet, in fact. It was first published over on DeviantArt as a songfic contest entry in December 2012, where it actually won first place, but both me and the person who ran the contest are not on DeviantArt anymore, so yeah. Anyway, thanks to that person (who's screen name I have no way of finding again) for helping me summon the courage to post my first fic. The only things I changed were a handful of typos and a few instances of very awkward wording. 
> 
> The song it was based on is Blumme vun der Tankstell by Serge Tonnar & Legotrip. It's in Luxembourgish and I'm too lazy to type up a translation atm, but the lyrics basically follow the plot of this fic. Here's a link for anyone who's interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiqHorJujMc

When the front door slams you know that he’s finally gone. Still, you don’t get up immediately. The cold of the kitchen tiles feels good against your bruised face. The taste of blood in your mouth on the other hand isn’t exactly pleasant so you decide to get up anyway. You limp over to the sink and rinse your mouth with some tab water. You spit out the now reddish liquid and take out the first-aid kit you keep hidden in one of the cupboards. It’s by far not the first time you need it so it doesn’t bewilder you in the least when you discover that you’re running awfully low on disinfectant. You spill the last remainders over some gauze and start cleaning up your wounds. After finishing patching up yourself you decide that you should probably stock up your first-aid kit as soon as possible. You sigh. In fact, thinking about it, now is as good a time as any. So, you fetch your jacket and leave the shabby little apartment you and your abusive boyfriend live in.

 

It hadn’t always been like this. When you had met Mathias he was kind and considerate. He still was in fact. Sometimes at least. When he’s not drunk that is. But Mathias being sober had become a very rare occurrence since he had lost his job at the electronics store almost a year ago. Sometimes you wondered how much more beer his liver could take. But sometimes you also wondered how much more beer _you_ could take.  You let out a deep sigh, the humidity forming a large white cloud in front of your face. You dig your hand deeper into your pockets as you turn a corner. November nights tend to be quite cold.

 

You’re thankful for the little store in the neighbourhood. It’s open even this late in the evening and it has a large assortment of almost everything. Plus it’s nearby so you like to go there to get out of Mathias’ way when he’s in one of his moods.

 

As you enter the store you feel the outside cold and your inside tension fall off of you. This place has something very cosy. You can’t put your finger on it but it’s always relaxing to stroll through the shelves and let your mind wander far away from your boyfriend. You always like to recall the Mathias you knew so you can pretend that all this has never happened.

 

But you can’t daydream forever. So you think of how it will be when you get home instead. It’s going to be exactly like all those times before. Around two in the morning Mathias will come home even drunker than when he left. He will come to the locked bedroom door and knock, softly but persistent, until you beg him tearfully to go away and let you be. He’ll say that he loves you and that he doesn’t even know what came over him. He’ll offer flowers as an apology. The first few times you believed him and gingerly opened the door. He had hugged you clumsily, the smell of beer taking your breath away. He had repeated his declaration of love, and he had given you the flowers. Flowers he had picked up at some cheap, run-down gas station. They always reeked of gasoline. The first few times you had accepted them, appreciating the gesture. But now you couldn’t even remember when Mathias last set foot in the bedroom. You would keep the door locked even if he begged you for hours. You would hide under the covers and put the pillow over your ears, crying. And Mathias would end up falling asleep outside the bedroom door, the flowers still in his hand.

 

You almost forgot what you had come here for. You brush off a tear that had wet your face while you were thinking about how this night wasn’t going to be any different. By now you knew where the first-aid stuff was so you head more specifically in that direction. But suddenly you stop dead. Something shiny caught your eye. It’s a large kitchen knife. You go over to have a better look. The old one had become rather useless since Mathias had tried to stab you with it. Luckily, he had missed but the knife had ended up pretty battered after his encounter with the fridge door and the kitchen table.

 

‘Perhaps this night doesn’t have to be like all those times before…’ You don’t like the thought that slowly crept into your brain. You try to shake it off but a stubborn little voice keeps quietly asking ‘Why not? You’ve suffered for so long now. It will be seen as self-defence. No one would have to find out anyway…’ You shake your head to chase the thoughts away, but deep down you know that you just made your choice.

 

 

As you leave the store you bought not only the knife and the disinfectant but also a foldable spade. The shopkeeper gave you a weird look, who could blame him, but you had kept up your smile, and he didn’t ask any questions. Good for him.

 

After you got home you brew yourself a cup of coffee. You would need the concentration if you want to carry out your plan properly. And you positively had decided that it had to be today. It was now or never.

 

***

 

You hear the front door creak open but you don’t get up. He’ll come to you.

 

“Hey babe, you still awake?” Mathias shows up in the door frame. He looks a bit confused. But then a wide grin breaks through and he staggers over to you. Pressing a foul-smelling kiss on your cheek he shoves the familiarly of gasoline reeking bunch of flowers onto your lab.

 

“Ya know dat I love ya, dontcha?” You look up at him. His smile twitches nervously but his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes... You don’t say anything.

 

“I dunnno what I was thinkin’, babe! I promise I will never do it again. Never ever, you hear me?” Now a smile comes to your lips, too. You pick up the flowers from your lap and look at them like you were thinking about something.

 

“You know, Mathias, I was wondering… When did these flowery gifts of yours stop to seem sincere? Tell me Mathias… I don’t remember anymore.” With these words you take your new shiny kitchen knife and ram it right into Mathias’ chest. Stunned he stumbles against the fridge behind him. The dark stain on his shirt grows bigger and bigger. He looks at you in disbelieve.

 

“Babe… I… I’m…” Violent coughs interrupt Mathias last stuttering attempt at an apology. But those words he hadn’t brought over his lips even once in this last whole year, those words wouldn’t pass his lips now either. Not now, not ever again. Coughing up blood, pink foam forming in the corners of his mouth, Mathias collapses on the floor. Fighting for his last breaths, he looks up at you for the last time. His eyes don’t see you anymore but you know that you’re his last thought.

 

***

 

You walk up to a big birch tree a little off the paths leading through these woods. You run your fingers over the carving in the white bark: J e d M. You know what their meaning is; you carved them yourself two months ago.

 

“l will always love you, Mathias.”, you whisper as you put down a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the tree and take away the wilted ones from last week. You know what lies here, not so far below your feet. Nobody else does but you do. You gently kiss the carved letters good bye before you turn to leave again.

 

“’Till next time, darling. It’ll be exactly like all those times before, you’ll see.” You smile at the ground at the foot of the tree. You take one last breath of the gasoline stench before you calmly walk away. The smell will make him know that they are from you.


End file.
